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The nature of the Reason-Principle is adequately expressed in
its Act and, therefore, the wider its extension the nearer will
its productions approach to full contrariety: hence the world of
sense is less a unity than is its Reason-Principle; it contains a
wider multiplicity and contrariety: its partial members will,
therefore, be urged by a closer intention towards fullness of
life, a warmer desire for unification.
But desire often destroys the desired; it seeks its own good,
and, if the desired object is perishable, the ruin follows: and
the partial thing straining towards its completing principle
draws towards itself all it possibly can.
Thus, with the good we have the bad: we have the opposed
movements of a dancer guided by one artistic plan; we recognize
in his steps the good as against the bad, and see that in the
opposition lies the merit of the design.
But, thus, the wicked disappear?
No: their wickedness remains; simply, their role is not of their
own planning.
But, surely, this excuses them?
No; excuse lies with the Reason-Principle- and the
Reason-Principle does not excuse them.
No doubt all are members of this Principle but one is a good man,
another is bad- the larger class, this- and it goes as in a play;
the poet while he gives each actor a part is also using them as
they are in their own persons: he does not himself rank the men
as leading actor, second, third; he simply gives suitable words
to each, and by that assignment fixes each man's standing.
Thus, every man has his place, a place that fits the good man, a
place that fits the bad: each within the two orders of them makes
his way, naturally, reasonably, to the place, good or bad, that
suits him, and takes the position he has made his own. There he
talks and acts, in blasphemy and crime or in all goodness: for
the actors bring to this play what they were before it was ever
staged.
In the dramas of human art, the poet provides the words but the
actors add their own quality, good or bad- for they have more to
do than merely repeat the author's words- in the truer drama
which dramatic genius imitates in its degree, the Soul displays
itself in a part assigned by the creator of the piece.
As the actors of our stages get their masks and their costume,
robes of state or rags, so a Soul is allotted its fortunes, and
not at haphazard but always under a Reason: it adapts itself to
the fortunes assigned to it, attunes itself, ranges itself
rightly to the drama, to the whole Principle of the piece: then
it speaks out its business, exhibiting at the same time all that
a Soul can express of its own quality, as a singer in a song. A
voice, a bearing, naturally fine or vulgar, may increase the
charm of a piece; on the other hand, an actor with his ugly voice
may make a sorry exhibition of himself, yet the drama stands as
good a work as ever: the dramatist, taking the action which a
sound criticism suggests, disgraces one, taking his part from
him, with perfect justice: another man he promotes to more
serious roles or to any more important play he may have, while
the first is cast for whatever minor work there may be.
Just so the Soul, entering this drama of the Universe, making
itself a part of the Play, bringing to its acting its personal
excellence or defect, set in a definite place at the entry and
accepting from the author its entire role- superimposed upon its
own character and conduct- just so, it receives in the end its
punishment and reward.
But these actors, Souls, hold a peculiar dignity: they act in a
vaster place than any stage: the Author has made them masters of
all this world; they have a wide choice of place; they themselves
determine the honour or discredit in which they are agents since
their place and part are in keeping with their quality: they
therefore fit into the Reason-Principle of the Universe, each
adjusted, most legitimately, to the appropriate environment, as
every string of the lyre is set in the precisely right position,
determined by the Principle directing musical utterance, for the
due production of the tones within its capacity. All is just and
good in the Universe in which every actor is set in his own quite
appropriate place, though it be to utter in the Darkness and in
Tartarus the dreadful sounds whose utterance there is well.
This Universe is good not when the individual is a stone, but
when everyone throws in his own voice towards a total harmony,
singing out a life- thin, harsh, imperfect, though it be. The
Syrinx does not utter merely one pure note; there is a thin
obscure sound which blends in to make the harmony of Syrinx
music: the harmony is made up from tones of various grades, all
the tones differing, but the resultant of all forming one sound.
Similarly the Reason-Principle entire is One, but it is broken
into unequal parts: hence the difference of place found in the
Universe, better spots and worse; and hence the inequality of
Souls, finding their appropriate surroundings amid this local
inequality. The diverse places of this sphere, the Souls of
unequal grade and unlike conduct, are wen exemplified by the
distinction of parts in the Syrinx or any other instrument: there
is local difference, but from every position every string gives
forth its own tone, the sound appropriate, at once, to its
particular place and to the entire plan.
What is evil in the single Soul will stand a good thing in the
universal system; what in the unit offends nature will serve
nature in the total event- and still remains the weak and wrong
tone it is, though its sounding takes nothing from the worth of
the whole, just as, in another order of image, the executioner's
ugly office does not mar the well-governed state: such an officer
is a civic necessity; and the corresponding moral type is often
serviceable; thus, even as things are, all is well.
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